


Cat-astrophe

by Writesaber



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - No Powers, But Mostly Fun and Fluffiness, Cats, Gen, Human Kara Danvers, Tiny bits of Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Why Did I Write This?, because this fandom needs more of that, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writesaber/pseuds/Writesaber
Summary: Kara Danvers is determined not to become a cat lady. Seven assorted cats have other ideas.OrKara is a cat lady and everyone else is a cat. Why? Because I can.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 60





	1. Alex

**Author's Note:**

> This, ladies and gentlemen, is not only my first Supergirl fic, but a piece of complete and utter fluff. I don’t even know what birthed this idea; I’ve been working for months on a super-angsty fusion between Supergirl and another show and now suddenly here I am putting that whole thing on hold to write about cats. I’m challenging myself to finish this fic in a week by posting one chapter a day, so expect daily updates on this fluffy little whatever-it-is. I don’t even know why I’m doing this one. It’s just for fun, so hopefully you guys enjoy it.

Kara Danvers is not a cat lady.

  
Sure, she’s been told she dresses the part, mostly by jerks in high school who wanted her to show a little more skin. And okay, maybe she’d been a bit more attached to her beloved childhood Streaky than most kids were to their pets. And maybe she doesn’t know that many people in National City and is too nervous to go out and meet some, and maybe she finds animals easier to talk to than people. But that doesn’t make her a cat lady. She’s still in her 20s. She’s too young to fall into _that_ stereotype, and she makes sure she doesn’t. When she volunteers every other weekend at the shelter, she keeps strictly to the dog room. She insists she’s a dog person. She claims she’s allergic to cats. She does everything in her power to avoid the ~~adorable, fluffy furbabies~~ cold, cunning predators of the feline order.

  
So as she walks to work that fateful morning, juggling her phone in one hand and Ms. Grant’s latte in the other, she tries to pretend she doesn’t hear the sound. “It’s a baby,” she whispers. “A baby crying. It’s not a catfight. And if it is, I don’t care.”

  
 _Merrrow_!

Kara jumps as the unearthly screech rips through the air again, laced with all the fury that a feline body can possibly hold and followed up by an infuriated _hssssssss_ that proves the producer of the sound is not a baby. It is, most certainly, a cat. A very angry cat. Kara has sworn- Kara has _vowed_ \- not to get involved with cats.

  
But she isn’t made of stone, for heavens sake, and this spat sounds ugly. She’ll just peek into the alleyway, see if either one is hurt and be on her way with no harm done.

  
She pokes her head warily around the corner, uncertain what she might find, and finds herself witnessing the final moments of what must have been a battle for the ages. Two flea-bitten, battered tomcats, both of them beaten up even though they look more than capable of winning a fight, are trying desperately to slink away from the strangest-looking cat Kara has ever set eyes on.

  
The cat fills every cliche ever written about feral cats- big and muscular and tough-looking, with a coat that’s clearly seen better days and wicked claws. One ear has been reduced to a torn stump and the end of the tail goes in a different direction than the rest of it, testifying to a nasty fracture at some point. The cat’s fur is short, a dark reddish color. But it’s the intelligent brown eyes, plus the fact that this cat just went up against two at once and beat the living daylights out of both, that make Kara look at her with respect. 

  
The cat finishes telling the other two who’s boss with a final savage swipe across their chests, and they both flee yowling down the alleyway, leaving their dignity and a few large chunks of fur behind. The victor hops up onto a trash can lid, shakes herself off unconcernedly as if the fight was nothing at all, scrubs a paw across her face and then turns to look at Kara.

  
Kara backs away (because if you look in its eyes you’ll start getting attached to it) and stares at the ground, at the trash can, at anything but the cat. “That was some serious butt-kicking,” she says (because it feels awkward to have everything be so quiet) “but I gotta go. Glad to see you're okay and stuff.”

  
The cat blinks. Seriously, Kara has never seen cat eyes that smart. She doesn’t seem afraid of Kara either, like she knows she could claw this human’s face off if she wanted to. Honestly if there’s something that actually scares her Kara wouldn’t want to meet it in the dark, because this thing is a savage. 

  
But Kara is not a cat lady, so she turns and runs, nearly dropping her phone in the process. She makes it to work on time, just barely, but all through the morning she keeps thinking about the cat. She just can’t seem to put the scrappy fighter out of her mind. The eyes. She blames the eyes, those smart, fierce brown eyes.

  
(It’s totally the eyes, because she is not a cat lady).

* * *

  
It’s the eyes, she tells herself when she saves half of her tuna sandwich at lunch and runs back to the alleyway to set it on the lid of the trash can where the cat was sitting.

  
It’s the eyes, she tells herself when she does the same thing the next day, and the next day, and the next, and then decides to cut out the middleman and tucks one of those little cans of cat food in along with her lunch on the fifth day. It’s the eyes. It’s all the eyes. She’s not a cat lady.

  
She should have known better. She should have known she was done for on day one. She should have kept walking and let the fight happen and never even looked at the ferocious survivor of a cat.

  
But she didn’t. And so really she’s got no one to blame but herself.

  
The cat, Kara finds out from a quick Google search, is an Abyssinian. Strong, loyal, protective of their owners and sometimes acting more like dogs than cats. That’s one good thing, at least; Kara always said she was a dog person. That same Google search provides her with the added factoid of the first known Abyssinian, a kitten from ancient Alexandria.

  
Kara’s getting a little tired of referring to the cat as “the cat.” That’s the only reason why she names it. Not because it’s hers. It’s not. She’s not a cat lady. But it does need a name if she’s gonna keep feeding it, so when the cat appears from the alleyway- for the first few days she stayed out of sight but lately she’s deigned to show herself- Kara says, because it’s the only thing she can think of, “Hey, Alexandria.”

  
The cat stops eating and looks at her with what can only be described as a glare, a low growl rumbling deep in her throat. Kara immediately raises her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. No go. Message received.” The cat returns to the food, watching Kara suspiciously out of one eye.

  
She does need a name though. “Alex,” Kara says after a moment’s thought. It’s shorter, more powerful. “Better?”

  
“Merrt,” replies the cat, and Kara decides that, since it isn’t a death glare, she’ll take it. So the cat becomes Alex, and Kara tells herself that feeding her is just a good deed, not the first descent into cat lady-dom.

  
(She can’t quite convince herself).

* * *

  
One cat, Kara decides, doesn’t make her a cat lady. Lots of people have one cat. One cat is normal. One cat is fine. And Alex is a shorthair; Kara doesn’t like the idea of her out in the cold now that it’s getting to be autumn. Sure, Alex can take care of herself no problem, but Kara would sleep better at night knowing she was somewhere warm and dry and safe. And though Alex isn’t exactly an ugly cat, she’s got her battle scars, not to mention her fiercely independent attitude, so it’s unlikely anyone else will take her in. Kara’s the one who feeds her. She’s- Kara sighs and admits it grudgingly to herself- she’s Kara’s cat.

  
And one cat is normal, Kara insists in her head as she pushes a shopping cart through the aisles of the pet store. One cat is fine.

  
So she gets a large bag of dry cat food, three weeks’ supply of the wet stuff, a small bag of treats, a thing of cat litter and a litter box, a pair of food bowls, a scratching post, a cat tree and a fluffy gray bed with a matching blanket. As far as toys go, she heads to the dog section and gets three of the heavy-duty ones meant for big dogs, because the little stuffed mice and squeaky fish in the cat section are absolutely no match for Alex. At the last second she remembers to grab a carrier, a sturdy plastic one that Alex won’t be able to shred. She leaves the store two hundred and sixty-three dollars and ninety-two cents poorer than when she came in, but she’s ready to become a cat owner.

  
(And no, she’s not a cat lady. Alex is one cat. Lots of people have one cat).

  
When it comes to actually getting Alex into the carrier, Kara knows there’s only one way to do it. Trying to tempt her inside with treats won’t work. Alex is a smart cat. Kara only has one option, so she takes it. She sets the food down and waits till Alex is busy eating. Then she throws a towel over the cat and tackles her.

  
It takes five entire minutes and most of Kara’s patience to wrestle twenty hissing, spitting pounds of cat into the carrier. When, by some miracle, the task is done, Kara’s breathing hard, bleeding from multiple lacerations and wishing she’d never heard of cats while Alex glares balefully through the wire door. She makes her displeasure known during the the twenty-minute drive to the vet’s office, filling the car with a foreboding _rrrrrrowwwwlll_ that promises nothing short of bloody vengeance. Kara’s made sure not to visit the regular vet who knows her from the shelter; she’s chosen a stranger to leave her pride intact after so many months of insisting she likes dogs. So she feels no qualms picking the carrier up, slamming it down on the receptionist’s desk and gasping “Help me.”

  
They must have realized the seriousness of the case, because she’s putting the carrier on an exam table not three minutes later, watching as a tall, lanky guy with wayward brown hair and a nametag that reads “Barry” peers in at the furious Alex.

  
“You say you found her?” Barry says. “Huh. Not a lot of people who’d just take in a stray like that. I’ll just give her the old once-over and get her up to date on her shots and then she’s all yours. I should warn you, though, feral cats like this often have some pretty nasty stuff going on, diseases, parasites, ya know.”

  
Maybe feral cats do. But Alex doesn’t. Not even diseases are tough enough to mess with Alex. The check-up takes half an hour and almost costs Barry a finger once or twice, but the vet takes it in stride and gives Kara’s cat a clean bill of health.

  
So Kara brings Alex back to her newly cat-friendly apartment and lets her settle in. She simmered down on the car ride home and is mostly calm by the time Kara lets her out of the carrier. And she doesn’t freak out like most cats would, either. She just walks around, sniffing everything, getting used to the new environment, and then curls up on the top of the cat tree in the bedroom and goes to sleep. Kara doesn’t blame her. Sleep is sounding like an excellent idea. She changes into her pajamas, turns out the light and is asleep in minutes.

  
There’s a dead mouse on her dresser when she wakes up. She should have known Alex wouldn’t forgive the towel incident.

* * *

  
Except for the mouse, there are no further problems between the two of them. Alex settles in like she’s always been there. She maintains her independence, refusing to sleep next to Kara in the bed or sit on her lap, but she’s not too aloof. She’ll tolerate a few minutes of petting as long as she’s in the mood, and she’ll sit next to Kara’s leg while they watch a movie in the evenings. And she always welcomes Kara with a loud meow when she gets home from work. 

  
Alex’s Abyssinian instincts are obvious. She has a strong protective instinct- she prowls the apartment like a security officer at night and stands guard by Kara’s door in the mornings- and Kara fully believes that if something dangerous were ever to walk through that door, Alex would attack it with the ferocity of a Doberman. She’s a timekeeper too, returning from her escapades around the neighborhood at precisely eight o’clock each evening and waking Kara with an insistent _mrow_! if she sleeps in.

  
Alex isn’t the playful, adoring fluff ball that most people want a cat to be, but in all honesty, she’s the perfect cat for Kara. She can take care of herself while Kara works, and she’s loving without being clingy or demanding. She’s perfectly content to be left to her own devices, but she still provides Kara some much-needed company.

  
All in all, Kara decides, when the one-month anniversary of Alex’s arrival passes by, having a cat is not that bad.

  
(And after all she just has one cat. Lots of people have one cat. Kara Danvers is not a cat lady).


	2. Winn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two of this tooth-rotting fluff explosion. Tiny bits of angst in this one, because let our favorite little sweater hobbit have angst, cowards.
> 
> Also, I have a Tumblr now. It’s got the same name, reluctant-reality, so feel free to pop in and say hi if you’re enjoying this story!

It’s at the two-month mark of adopting Alex that Kara starts to worry. She’s done research on Abyssinians, now that she owns one, and she’s found out that even though Alex is perfectly self-reliant, Abyssinians in general don’t do well when they’re left alone for too long. They’re high-energy, and they like having things to occupy their time. But since there’s no getting around the fact that Kara works all day, she can’t spend the necessary time with Alex. So since Kara can’t be there, maybe Alex could use a friend.

  
(This isn’t because she wants another cat. She’s not a cat lady. But if she’s going to have a cat she wants it to be happy, and she’s concerned that Alex might be a little bored. That’s all).

  
The problem is, Kara doesn’t know where she’s going to get another cat. She refuses to adopt one from the shelter where she volunteers, because after all this time of insisting she’s a dog lover she is not about to reveal the truth. And if she’s going to get another one she wants to rescue a cat in need, like she did with Alex. 

  
So she files the idea away in the back of her mind and keeps an eye out on the daily walk to work, just in case another homeless feline chooses to make their appearance. None does, and eventually Kara stops looking, telling herself that Alex is fine and she doesn’t really want another one anyway, because she’s not a cat lady.

  
And of course it’s once she stops looking that the answer appears. Not on the way to work, though. In fact, the solution to the problem shows up in the last place Kara would think to find it.

* * *

  
She’s seen the guy from the floor above hers a couple of times before, and he always gives her the creeps. He’s older, with silvery hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind round glasses, and he always speaks in a soft, subdued voice that seems to have something much darker just beneath the surface. That is, when he talks at all; much of the time he doesn’t even look at anyone, much less talk to them, but once or twice Kara has turned to find that piercing gaze fixated on her. And sometimes, late at night, she’ll hear him yelling at someone on the phone, throwing things and storming around the apartment only to present himself, quiet and reserved as usual, in the elevator the next morning. There’s just something unnerving about him.

  
So she does her best to avoid the third floor unless she absolutely has to go up there. And one of those “absolutely have to” times comes in late October, when Kara gets word that Mrs. Weathersby, who lives on the third floor, is sick with the flu.

  
Okay, maybe it’s not exactly an “absolutely have to,” but Kara likes Mrs. Weathersby and she’d feel like a bad neighbor if she didn’t bring her some chicken soup. So she does, and she stays for a few minutes making small talk and tidying the place up a bit before asking Mrs. Weathersby if there’s anything else she needs.

  
“Oh no, dear,” the elderly lady answers, sinking a little further into the pillows. “You’ve done plenty, thank you. I’ve got to get up in a few minutes anyway, to feed the cat.”

  
Kara is hypersensitive to the word _cat_ by now. And also confused, because there’s no sign of a feline presence in Mrs. Weathersby’s apartment. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

  
The old lady shakes her head. “Oh, I don’t. The man across the hall, the strange quiet one with the glasses, it’s his. Not that he takes care of it. But he leaves his door unlocked, and I couldn’t let the poor thing fend for itself, so I stop by every afternoon and feed it.”

  
Kara, of course, reassures Mrs. Weathersby that it’s all right, she’s more than happy to feed the cat. Waving goodbye to the old lady, she crosses the hall to the guy’s apartment and finds the door, as promised, unlocked. It surprises her how angry she is; she’s always known the guy was weird, but what kind of sick freak neglects a sweet, innocent cat? Anyone would be upset at that. It doesn’t make her a cat lady.

  
She turns the knob and steps inside the apartment, only to find herself confronted with what looks like the set of a cheap horror movie. Clearly the guy’s a bit of a tinkerer, because there’s dismantled parts from random gizmos and gadgets strewn across the floor, half-finished projects covering almost every surface, and, oddly, a sizable collection of various possessed-looking toys. The whole setup comes coupled with about a thousand small, sharp or otherwise cat-hazardous objects lying in plain view, cementing once and for all in Kara’s mind that this psycho does not deserve a pet of any description. She wouldn’t even trust him with a goldfish.

  
The cat in question had booked it when the door opened, and it takes Kara almost a minute to spot the tip of a fluffy tail and a pair of big green eyes peering out from under an ottoman. As soon as the cat determines that Kara isn’t the scary person he lives with though, he’s immediately wiggling out from his hiding place to wrap around her legs with a squeaky chirp of a meow. He almost trips over his own feet, twice, in the process.

  
And Kara...Kara finds her heart melting, just a little bit. This cat looks, plain and simply, like a dork. He’s a small brown tabby with rumpled fur that hovers in the awkward space between “short enough to not result in hairballs” and “long enough to never stay where it’s supposed to.” One foot and the tip of his tail are white, as are some large, uneven splotches on his face that look less like markings and more like he face-planted into a bowl of whipped cream. When combined with his nose, which is mostly black with a few oddly placed dots of pink, the overall appearance of the cat is, in a word, goofy.

  
Kara also notices that the cat doesn’t have claws, because of course a sorry excuse of a pet owner like this one wouldn’t care how inhumane declawing really is. It’s that observation, plus the fact that this cat is a total sweetheart and she can’t fathom how anyone could hurt it without feeling indescribably guilty, that makes her do what she does next.

  
She goes through the whole apartment and takes pictures of everything- the chaotic state of the place, the many dangerous items left out where the cat could easily reach them, the empty food bowl and the bone-dry water dish. She doesn’t come across anything that redeems the owner in the least; the only thing she finds that suggests the guy ever took an interest in his pet at all is the bill from the declawing surgery, crumpled under a handful of screwdrivers. (The bill also informs her that the cat is a mixed-breed named Winn, which Kara supposes is a good thing to know).

  
Once she’s got enough evidence, she puts her phone back in her pocket, refills the food and water, and goes straight back to her own apartment, where she proceeds to put in a call to the ASPCA. She gets the guy slammed with a warning, a hundred-dollar fine and a ban on keeping pets for eighteen months, and she’s very proud of herself for it.

  
Until she realizes that the cat is now in need of a different home.

* * *

  
Kara is not a cat lady, so she tries- she really, really tries- to find someone else to take Winn. She asks around the apartment building, and when that doesn’t work she calls up every shelter in National City (even the one she volunteers at, though she disguises her voice), and then every shelter in Central City, and finally Star City for good measure. No luck. They’re all full, with no room for another cat. One of them offers to put the cat down for her, but by now Kara feels personally responsible for Winn and replies with a polite-but-firm “no thank you.”

  
So Kara gets a second cat after all, and she doesn’t exactly mind because hey, lots of people have a cat and a friend for the cat without being cat ladies. Two cats is still well within normal.

  
Plus, Winn is an awkward, bumbling sweetheart that’s impossible not to love. He latches onto Kara from day one, running over to stare mournfully out the window when she leaves for work in the morning and winding himself around her ankles with a string of exuberant meows when she returns at night. Anytime Kara sits on the couch, Winn tries to fold himself into the nonexistent space between the small of her back and the couch cushion, usually ending up with his face pressed into Kara’s shoulder blade and the rest of him draped awkwardly across her side. He can’t quite grasp the concept of nuzzling her with his nose, so he’ll just thunk his entire head against her hand when he wants attention. He’s enthusiastic and sweet and adorable, and Kara decides that getting a friend for Alex was a very good idea.

* * *

  
Alex herself is less thrilled. She spends the first few days glued to the top of the cat tree, glaring angrily down at the new arrival and hissing at Kara. Winn has never been around another cat and therefore doesn’t get it, so he spends those first few days meowing hopefully up at Alex, trying to get her to come down and play with him. It doesn’t work. At least not until day four when Alex suddenly realizes that ruling the house will be more fun now that she’s got somebody to rule _over_ , and makes her descent from the cat tree, much to the excitement of Winn.

  
Winn stops being excited when Alex flops over on top of him. She’s almost twice his size, so the “squish into submission” tactic works well. And from that day forward Winn is equal parts terrified and in awe of Alex.

  
Alex, for her part, seems to delight in tormenting him. She figures out that since Winn doesn’t have claws he’s not too great at defending himself, and she uses the knowledge to her advantage. She’ll randomly come up and sock him in the back of the head hard enough to knock him over, and then keep doing it every time he gets back up until he finally just lies there and meows for mercy. She lays down the law that when the cats are fed she gets to eat first, and honestly Kara can’t help but be a little impressed with her teaching methods. If Winn tries to snatch a bite or two before Alex says he can, Alex whacks him upside the head and scarfs everything. If he waits his turn, she leaves him his fair share. It doesn’t take long before he gets the message and sits at a respectful distance, watching Alex longingly until she finally moves out of the way.

  
Despite what she puts him through and how much she scares him, Winn’s still devoted to Alex. And on the rare occasion when she’ll actually deign to play with him, Winn transforms into a bouncy little fluffball of happiness and falls all over himself trying to pick out a toy Alex will like. It’s cute, and that’s the only reason why Kara takes pictures. Not because she’s a cat lady, because she isn’t, but because it’s cute. (And when she comes home from work one day to find that she left her computer on and Winn, who is sitting on her keyboard in a tangle of cords looking very proud of himself, has typed “;!/9sjdi83!&$inshdjjjs” in the middle of an email to Ms. Grant, she prints it out and saves it, because that’s also cute).

  
So Kara has two cats. Winn likes having a friendly human and a cool big sister. Alex likes having somebody to boss around. Kara likes having the ever-affectionate Winn there to offset the more standoffish Alex. The arrangement works for all of them.

  
(Two cats is still normal. Plenty of people have two cats. Kara Danvers is not a cat lady).


	3. James

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun with this one, y’all. There’s a special guest star at the end because I just couldn’t resist having that happen. Enjoy!

"Mrroww!"

The part yelp, part meow, part screech jerks Kara out of a sound sleep with a startled "What the-" as a frantic Winn, with his tail bristled to twice its normal size and his eyes so wide they're about to pop out of his head, comes running into Kara's bedroom like his life depends on it and squirms under the bed. An infuriated Alex, ears pinned flat against her skull and claws at the ready, follows close behind, snarling like a miniature tiger. Unfortunately, under the bed is Winn's one sanctuary, since Alex can't fit, and she settles for lying in wait at the foot of the bed, growling.

Kara glances over at the clock, which reads 3:45 in the morning, and groans. It's anyone's guess who started the fight this time- maybe Winn tripped over Alex's tail again, or maybe Alex is just scaring him half to death because it's fun- but it's getting to be a habit with these two to wake her up in the wee hours of the morning. She's tried everything to get it to stop, to no avail. If she puts them in different rooms, Winn meows pitifully until she gives up and opens the door, and Alex leaves dead mice in the shower the next morning. If she tells Alex firmly to leave Winn alone for the love of everything holy, Alex merely gives her a look that means "I do what I want and you can do nothing about it." If she changes tactics and tells Winn to stop annoying Alex, he takes it personally and hides under the couch until Kara feels guilty. 

If the two were a bit more evenly matched, there might be less chaos. Or if there were someone to act as a buffer between them, since Kara's clearly not cut out for that-

She stops herself quickly, because that's the kind of thinking that leads to a third cat, and Kara is absolutely determined not to go there. One cat is fine. Two cats is still fine. Three cats is not quite cat lady levels, but it's certainly abnormal, and Kara is not venturing out of the realm of normal, thank you very much.

She extracts herself from the covers, hating to leave the warm nest of blankets, and kneels next to the bed. Scooting Alex out of the way, she drags Winn out from his corner and cuddles him until his fur settles back down, then gets back into bed. Alex, disgruntled, resumes her regular sleeping spot on top of the cat tree, keeping one warning eye on Winn as he curls into a fluffy lump under Kara's arm. "Seriously, knock it off, you two," Kara mumbles sleepily. "I've got work in the morning, and Ms. Grant will murder me if I get her coffee order wrong because my cats kept me up."

She hasn't even revealed the fact that she has cats to Ms. Grant yet. Given her name, she doubts Ms. Grant would have anything to say against it, but she also doubts that "I fell asleep at my desk because my cats can't leave each other alone" will be an excuse she's willing to accept. Kara snuggles deeper under the blankets and closes her eyes again, but sleep is a long time coming, and she's more tired than she should be when the alarm clock goes off. 

She stumbles blearily through the motions of her morning, slathering her makeup on her face and pulling her hair back into a messy bun because it's honestly all she's got the energy to do with it. It's going to be a very long day; she has volunteering at the shelter after work and won't be able to get home before 8:00 tonight. Both cats come running in when they hear her in the kitchen, and she glares at them while she refills the food bowl.

"I'm mad at you both, you know," she informs them.

"Mrrrt," says Alex, who clearly doesn't care. "Mrow," says Winn, who clearly doesn't get it. Kara rolls her eyes, but she can't hold back a smile, because it's literally impossible to stay mad at these two for more than five seconds.

She finishes filling the food bowl and stands up. Winn, stupidly, decides to make a grab for the food. Alex reaches out effortlessly and knocks him over, and Kara stifles a groan because now Alex is going to inhale all the food and Kara will have to wait and refill it again after she's done so Winn can eat. Cats, she decides, are a pain in the butt.

* * *

In retrospect, Kara should have known better than to walk into the shelter after thinking about getting another cat. Fate or destiny or whatever apparently pays attention to stuff like that, because Kara accidentally takes a wrong turn (in a building she's effectively memorized the layout of, go figure) and winds up in the cat room. And wouldn't you know it, she makes the cardinal mistake and glances into one of the cages as she walks by. 

That passing glance turns into a stare, because the cat that gazes unblinkingly back at her is one of the most gorgeous cats she's ever seen. He's a dark brown color just a few shades shy of black, with sleek, smooth fur and piercing golden eyes. She can't exactly tell, but she thinks he might be a little bigger than Alex. He doesn't look at her with curiosity; he's perfectly calm, only the end of his tail swishing. Kara reads over the little information card on the side of the cage. Apparently the cat is a York Chocolate. Huh. York Chocolates are one of those fancy breeds that people pay big money for. She wonders how it wound up here.

The door squeaks open, and Amy, one of the shelter workers, pokes her head into the room. "Kara? What are you doing in here? I thought you worked with the dogs."

"Y-yeah," Kara stammers. "Usually I do, yeah. Just...wanted to come in here and have a look. Got a little curious, that's all." 

Amy gives her a weird look, but shrugs it off, her gaze going to the cat Kara was looking at. "I see you've met James."

Kara, still worried about her mistake, laughs nervously. "Did I? Oh, the cat...yeah. What's a York Chocolate doing here?"

Amy shrugs, pulls the cage door open and gathers the cat into her arms. He doesn't protest, just kind of dangles there while Amy scratches behind his ears. "No clue. Nobody knows where he came from, but everybody loves him. He's kinda the boss with the other cats, helps them chill out, keeps the peace. Unfortunately, it seems like most people want a cat who's a bit more...playful."

And Kara, because she apparently cannot control herself, blurts out "I don't," before she can stop the words. Both Amy and James blink at the same time (although only Amy looks confused).

"I thought you liked dogs," Amy says slowly. 

“I-I do. But I have...cats. Two cats. They hate each other. Well, no, they love each other, at least I think so, but they just fight. Like cats and dogs. No, no, not dogs. They’re like...siblings. But they’re not siblings, they just bicker. Like siblings.”

Kara blushes painfully and Amy looks more confused than before. Kara’s pretty sure that even James squints. The conversation takes another ten minutes to wrap up and Kara’s still not certain Amy understands what she’s saying, but she walks out with cat number three.

She draws a long sigh, looking at the cardboard carrier on the passenger seat. “You’ll probably hate me for throwing you into the craziness between Winn and Alex. But maybe they’ll settle down with somebody to mediate. Winn could definitely use a break. And you might actually be able to take Alex on.”

On second thought, Kara amends that last sentence. James might have size on his side, but Alex just doesn’t give up until she wins. She’ll destroy him if it gets into a knock-down, drag-out fight. Kara’s pretty sure Alex could destroy a saber-toothed tiger if there was one still around for her to fight.

Kara pulls into the parking lot of the pet store and goes to get a third round of cat supplies. She really, really should have seen this coming.

* * *

James doesn’t mind the craziness. In fact, he settles right in as if he’s meant to be there. Alex gives him a cool reception, mainly because she can’t bully him as easily as she can Winn, but Winn himself is ecstatic. He no longer runs under the bed when Alex takes it into her head to torture him; instead he runs to James, who sometimes breaks things up and sometimes chooses not to get involved. The dynamics between the three fascinate Kara. Alex, clearly, is the bossy big sister who’s in charge of everyone and teases Winn mercilessly. James is the brother who kind of lingers on the edge of things until a problem arises. And Winn is the little one who worships them both (and is also scared of Alex because who wouldn’t be). They all definitely love each other, even through the, uh, interesting parts. 

Only one thing about James confuses Kara. A few days after he arrives, his steady, mellow attitude changes to an inexplicable restlessness. He paces the apartment, sometimes letting out his deep, rumbly meow, which bugs Alex and baffles Winn. 

The pacing doesn’t stop until the night Kara works late and is so tired when she gets home that she forgets to close the cat door she’d had installed a few weeks after Alex arrived. As if that was what he was waiting for, James makes his escape. Kara’s too exhausted to do more than think “that’s weird.” Usually Alex is the only one to use the cat door; Winn hates leaving the apartment and James just hadn’t seemed interested until now.

He returns two hours later, carrying something strange in his mouth- a scrap of dark green fleece covered in long, silky black and white cat hair. He tucks it in the corner of his bed, like it’s somehow a treasured possession, and then takes his usual position sprawled at the foot of Kara’s bed. He’s asleep in minutes, but Kara sits there staring at him for awhile, because she definitely does not have a black and white cat. She doesn’t know anyone who does. Maybe James found a girlfriend someplace, before the shelter. It’s kind of cute, him bringing back a piece of her blanket. James is definitely a charmer, as much as it’s possible for a cat to be one.

* * *

The mystery solves itself two days later, when Kara walks into Ms. Grant’s office and stops short in surprise.

Cat Grant has an actual cat on her lap. A black and white cat with long, silky fur, lying on a green fleece blanket that’s missing one corner.

“Don’t say anything, Kiera,” Ms. Grant snaps irritably, before Kara even opens her mouth. “Yes, Cat is holding a cat. Yes, some people might find that hilarious. I am not one of them. And before you ask, Lucy here is not mine. She’s Carter’s. I’m watching her while Carter’s with his father, and since she ate an entire potted plant yesterday, God only knows why, I decided to bring her along and keep an eye on her.”

Kara is too stunned by what she’s discovered to say anything for a moment. Finally she stammers out, “I, uh, wouldn’t dream of commenting, Ms. Grant. I’ve got cats of my own.”

“Huh,” Cat says absently, thumbing through a pile of papers. “Somehow that’s not hard for me to imagine, Kiera.”

Lucy, perched on Cat’s lap, opens her mouth wide. Most people would think it’s a yawn, but Kara would swear she’s laughing.

The minute she gets home, she searches for the cats. Winn is sitting on top of her keyboard again, though he jumps down to greet her when she enters. Alex is taking a nap on the back of the couch, and the cat Kara is looking for is perched placidly on a chair next to the window. Kara goes to stand over him, and he turns his yellow, unruffled gaze to hers. 

“ _James,”_ Kara says. No response but a blink, a long, slow one.

“I know what you’re doing.”

The left ear twitches.

“You’re dating my boss’s cat.”

Another blink. And a look that clearly translates to, _And your point is?_

“Is that even legal?”

James curls up on the chair and drops his head onto his paws, communicating quite clearly that he is not interested in this conversation. Kara stands for a moment in exasperated silence.

“Well,” she says finally, when the silence gets awkward, “mazel tov, I guess. She seems nice.”

Tail flick. Translation: James, like Alex, does not need Kara’s blessing to do whatever the heck he wants.

Kara sighs and flops down on the couch, wincing as Winn immediately comes running over to insert himself into the modicum of space between her back and the couch and wondering why this is her life now. She tries, dimly, to convince herself that she’s still not a cat lady.

And she isn’t. Three cats may be abnormal, but Kara Danvers is not a cat lady. Not yet.

(That’s what she tells herself, anyway, and she’ll stick to it as long as she possibly can).


	4. Maggie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it’s been a bit since I updated, guys! On top of Thanksgiving, I struggled with this chapter because I love Maggie and I wanted her in here, but cats can’t exactly be lesbians and I wasn’t sure what else to do with her. But as you can see I’ve finished the chapter, and Maggie and Alex still get to be super-ultra-best-friends and have fun moments together. Hopefully you guys enjoy.

Three cats, Kara tells herself firmly. Three cats and no more. She can get away with three, but four will put her over the edge. She’ll become Kara the Cat Lady, and won't Ms. Grant just get a kick out of that? She’s not going there. She is absolutely not going there. James is her last cat.

  
She repeats it constantly to herself, like a mantra, when she walks through the shelter, avoiding the cat room like it’s the plague and keeping her eyes steadily fixed away from the new arrivals. When Mrs. Weathersby comes up and asks if Kara wants one of her sister’s cat’s new kittens, she replies firmly in the negative. Three cats, she tells herself. Three cats.

  
She neglects to tell Alex, mainly because she didn’t think she needed to run things by her cat, but she finds out very quickly how wrong she is. She also makes a mental note to inform Alex of each and every decision she makes from now on, because apparently strange things happen when she doesn’t. (She also wonders, briefly, if Alex somehow senses her decision and does what she does just to mess with her. Kara wouldn’t put it past her).

  
It happens like this. Kara returns home from work, just as usual. She gets out of the car, grabs the bag of cat food from the back- her third one in as many weeks because Alex is entirely capable of eating her own weight in Meow Mix when she wants to and James isn’t far behind- and walks up the sidewalk and up the stairs to her level of the building, just as usual. She unlocks the door and calls, “I’m back, everybody!” just as usual.

  
She’s greeted by a very unusual silence, not a cat in sight when she walks in. No Alex busy murdering one of her heavy-duty toys. No Winn tangled up in computer cords, hopping down to curl around Kara’s ankles. No James sprawled out luxuriously in a patch of sunshine on the floor.

  
Kara squints, wondering where in the world everyone is. Her apartment’s pretty sizable, but three cats can’t hide forever. 

  
By the time she has dinner on the stove, she’s beginning to wonder if she’s wrong about that, because not a whisker has appeared yet. Finally, starting to get worried, she brings out the big guns. Emptying an entire can of tuna- the actual human stuff, not the flavored cat food- into a bowl, she bangs a spoon against the side of the dish and hollers, “Come on out, you guys! I’m getting scared here!”

  
And in they come, one by one. First Winn, looking quite a bit more on edge than he’s been since James showed up. Then James himself, and Kara frowns because even James looks a little freaked out, and that’s an unusual occurrence. 

  
And then in comes Alex, and Kara does a double take that turns into a triple, and then quadruple, take. 

  
Because Alex has a shadow. A silky black shadow barely even the size of Winn, who definitely does not belong to Kara.

  
And Alex looks happier than Kara’s ever seen her. Her tail, with its crooked end, swishes happily, and she’s carrying on a conversation in soft little chirps unlike any sound that’s previously come out of her mouth. The black cat seems just as pleased, even though she has to tilt her head pretty far up to be able to look Alex in the eye. She’s small. Very small.

  
Her presence does not explain why Winn looks doubly intimidated and even James has a look of concern, but Kara can find that out later. Right now it’s time to put her foot down.

  
“Alex,” she says, and the Abyssinian glances up from where she’s explaining the concept of human tuna to her new friend, leveling Kara with a look that’s says _Do not interrupt me._

  
“Alex,” Kara repeats. “Alex, we’re not doing this. I don’t know where you found her but you need to take her back, because I am not getting a fourth cat. It’s not gonna happen. I’ve been able to tell myself I’m not a cat lady when it was just you, and then when it was you and Winn, and it was a little harder when it was you and Winn and James but I still managed it. I can’t do that again. You’re asking me to cross the point of no return. Alex, you are asking me to become a cat lady.”

  
For once, Alex doesn't try to win her case by sheer force of personality. Instead, she does a very un-Alex-like thing. She wraps her tail around the black cat, and to Kara’s shock, a purr echoes through the kitchen. James stares, Winn’s eyes get huge and Kara wonders if she’s hearing correctly. And, even as she curses herself for it, a soft “Awww” escapes her lips.

  
Satisfied, Alex strolls off with her new best friend in tow, and it’s when Kara walks into the bedroom and sees the new cat curled up alongside Alex on top of the cat tree (a place so sacred Alex once bit Winn’s tail for daring to trespass upon it) that she knows she’s lost the fight.

  
Really, she probably lost a long time ago. This day has been a long time coming, and it’s hard to believe it’s finally arrived. She draws in a deep breath, concedes defeat, and heads back to the car to get a fourth cat bed, toys, and everything else the new cat will need.

  
_I’m a cat lady. I am really, truly a cat lady. Five months ago I only had one cat. How did I fall so far?_

* * *

After some thought, Kara names the new cat Maggie, after a distant relative who had the same “though she be but little, she is fierce” attitude that Alex’s new friend does. She wonders where Alex found her; they’re an odd pair, powerful, battle-scarred Alex and tiny, sassy Maggie. But Alex has finally found somebody who makes her happy, so Kara doesn’t question it. 

  
She learns quickly why Winn and James were so freaked out, because Maggie is Alex’s partner in crime. She’s not hesitant to tease James as well as Winn, something even Alex rarely does. And she’s much, much sneakier about her escapades. Alex is confident enough to play one of her tricks and then just stand there like “yeah, I did that, what are you gonna do about it?” But Maggie? Maggie’s devilishly subtle. Kara’s seen her flick a cat toy across the room to smack Winn in the face, and then stare at him with such a wide-eyed, innocent expression that he looks doubtful as to whether she did it even if she’s the only other cat present. Maggie also gets a kick out of invading everyone else’s beds, and pouncing on any tails she happens to come across, and relocating Kara’s car keys/makeup/whatever other small items she can find to the most bizarre of places, whereupon she’ll sit and watch while Kara hunts high and low for whatever’s been pilfered, usually with little success. Then, as soon as Kara gives up, Maggie will put the stolen item back where it’s supposed to be as if nothing happened. Kara thought she was losing her mind before she figured out that Maggie was at fault, and she could tell, she could just tell, that Alex thought the whole thing was hilarious.

  
But Maggie also has a sweet side. Yes, she’ll attack James’ tail for no reason when poor James is just trying to take a nap, but she’ll also clamber on top of him like a furry little blanket and lie there purring while he tries not to look as happy as he is. Yes, she throws things at Winn because he jumps when he’s startled and she loves watching that, but she’s always up for a game of “bat the toy mouse around until one of us loses it under the couch and then we’ll see who can fish it out first” with him too. And yes, she steals anything of Kara’s that’s small enough to fit in her mouth, but she also sits on the floor, tail twitching and eyes riveted to the screen, meowing threateningly at the bad guys, when Kara watches cop movies. Which is, frankly, adorable.

  
Besides, Maggie is the only cat on the planet that Alex has gone beyond “I will tolerate your existence” with. It’s clear that having Maggie around makes Alex happy; the two of them are rarely apart. And having Alex happy is important enough to Kara that she’s willing to put up with Maggie’s more mischievous side- at least on most days, that is.

* * *

It’s a couple weeks after Maggie joins the gang that Kara lingers in the doorway contemplating how much life has changed. She’s a cat lady now. She’s finally stopped fighting it. And she actually loves it more than she ever thought she would. 

  
A few months ago, she would have suffered through a hectic day at work, come home to a silent and empty apartment, thrown a TV dinner in the microwave and slumped on the couch by herself to watch whatever stupid rom-com could hold her interest for more than five seconds. She was doing okay, but she’d been bored and lonely and unmotivated.

  
Now, though? Now she wakes up every morning wondering what weird, wacky, wonderful craziness will go down with her feline family today. Work still sucks, but she looks forward to it ending now that she’s got something to go back to. And she goes home to a houseful of cats who are all, in their own way, excited to see her and make sure she knows it. She makes dinner for herself and refills the food bowls for them, usually while talking, rambling really, to whoever’s decided to follow her into the kitchen. Then she sits down on the couch to watch a show she actually likes, confident that Winn will be jamming his face into her shoulder blade, James will be sprawled on the back of the couch, Maggie will be tucked under her arm and Alex will be sitting next to her leg in five seconds flat. She goes to bed knowing that Alex and Maggie will be perched on the cat tree, James stretched across the foot of the bed and Winn curled up in the crook of her elbow, all of them comforting presences reminding her that she is not alone. It’s nice. It’s actually really, really nice, and once Kara gets over the inward shame of falling into one of the most despised stereotypes in existence, she recognizes why it was a common enough occurrence to become a cliche in the first place. She’s a cat lady...and she actually enjoys it.

  
That doesn’t mean she intends to tell Ms. Grant about her “family,” or the trope she now fits into. Not by a long shot. She invests in a high-quality reusable lint roller and ensures that not a single cat hair remains on her clothing when she walks out the door. She fastidiously avoids conversations that involve pets of any kind, and she evades any questions as to whether she lives alone. She keeps wearing her cat-lady/librarian clothes, simply because she feels like it’s the style that feels most like her, but she never breathes a word about just how much farther things go when it comes to living the cliche. And for the most part, the strategy works. Cat still brings Lucy in occasionally, but if she suspects anything about what Kara’s life at home is like, her lips are sealed, which Kara greatly appreciates. 

  
Kara Danvers may have admitted to herself that she is indeed a cat lady, but that doesn’t mean the whole world has to know about it. She’ll just keep that little bit of information to herself, and no one else will ever have to know.


	5. J’onn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Space Dad makes his appearance, y’all. Also, for those who aren’t up on the cat lingo used in this chapter:
> 
> Floofy, adj. Halfway between shorthair and longhair. Fur that sticks out like the cat that owns it stuck their paw in a light socket.

There’s only one drawback to admitting to being a cat lady. Only one drawback to sharing a house with four rambunctious felines. Only one drawback to fulfilling the cliche.

Normal life is nothing short of insanity.

It reminds Kara of the chaotic days when it was just Alex and Winn, and she barely got enough sleep to function. Now that James and Maggie are in the picture, the chaos is doubled. Angry screeches, amused chirps, and Winn’s one-of-a-kind “I don’t know what I did to make you glare at me like that, Alex, but I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me” squeak are guaranteed to shatter any brief moment of silence Kara can snatch. She can’t walk into the kitchen without being greeted by a half dozen meows that all translate pretty clearly to “feed me!” She can’t sit down to watch a movie without four furry bodies vying to see who can invade furthest into her personal space. She loves her kitties, all of them, but it can’t be denied that there’s a significant number of cats in the apartment and sometimes they drive her up the wall.

After three hours of Google research on how to get a bunch of cats to chill out, Kara finally comes up with a definitive solution. And it’s the solution that half of her was hoping for and half of her was dreading.

According to most of the websites she visited, her cats are acting the way they are because there’s now enough of them to require some sort of pecking order, a way for everyone to know their role and their place. (Secretly, Kara’s surprised by the information. She’d thought Alex had already established the totem pole- herself at the top, then Maggie, who can get away with murder in Alex’s eyes, then James, who does his own thing most of the time, and then, well, if Alex could talk she’d probably claim the potted plants rank higher than Winn does, but Winn seems cool with that).

But even though the revelation is a surprise, it does make sense. All the craziness and high tensions and goofing around are because the cats are trying to figure out how things work now, who’s in charge, who gets to do what.

And what do the websites say is the best way to fix the problem? Simple- get another cat, kind of like Kara did with James when Winn and Alex were going haywire a few months ago. But the kind of cat suggested is very specific. An older, more mature cat who can take on most of the leadership without frustrating other “dominant” cats in the process. Calm, steady, not prone to getting excited or freaking out, but still firm. And since Alex would never tolerate another female, no matter how wise or respected, taking over as leader, there’s only one conclusion to be made.

Kara’s kitties need a Cat Dad.

* * *

The part of Kara that has fully embraced the cat-lady-ness is thrilled at the prospect of getting another cat. The part of her that’s still a rational human being debates the idea for a while. Does she have room for another one? Sure she does. Her apartment is huge. Can she afford another one? Well, ever since she’s started buying cat food in bulk, the cost of taking care of her pets has gone done, so yeah. How is she going to find a cat with the personality she needs? That’s easy. Shelter workers document personality types and all that. And shelters are full of older cats. She’ll just ask for one that can keep its cool. Where is she going to get this cat from?

It’s that last question that makes Kara’s excited half pause for a minute, because that’s the one thing she hadn’t considered. She’s been so caught up in the exhilaration of admitting the truth to herself that she forgot she hadn’t admitted it to anyone else. She kept the details of her life- and her cats- very much under wraps. All Ms. Grant knows is that she has cats, not how many she has or what a stereotype her life has become. And all anyone at the shelter knows is that Kara has three cats, which is a little weird but not as weird as having four and walking in to find the fifth.

Is she brave enough to reveal the truth? To expose the fact that she is a cat lady? Does she have the courage to show the world who she truly is?

Nope, Kara decides. She’ll pick a different shelter than the one she volunteers at. She gently shoves a dozing Maggie off her lap and goes to dig through the little hallway closet for the phone book.

She gives up after an hour and a half of fruitless searching. She knows the phone book is in here somewhere, but the cats have made it incredibly hard to find it. It’s seldom that Kara opens the closet, and they see this occasion as the perfect time to go exploring. Currently, Maggie has somehow maneuvered herself up to the highest shelf, where she is now perched precariously on a stack of shoeboxes. James found an old camera Kara didn’t even remember having and is tangled in the strap, batting curiously at the buttons. Alex is sitting on the floor, attacking dangling strings of Christmas lights as if they’ve personally wronged her. And Winn fell headfirst into a box of coats twenty minutes ago and has been meowing for somebody to get him out ever since, even though absolutely no one is paying attention.

It’s impossible to locate anything in the chaos, so Kara gives up on the phone book idea and does what she should probably have done from the beginning. She Googles it. She knows of two other shelters, the Star City one and the Central City one. She’ll visit both, because the sooner her cats are calmed down, the better off they’ll all be.

* * *

Things don't exactly go according to plan, because Central City? Far. Star City? Farther. Ordinarily, Kara would make the trip anyway, but she'd be gone for almost five hours and she definitely doesn't trust the cats to be left alone for that long. It's highly possible the apartment would be a disaster area by the time she returned. That is, if it's still standing.

So Kara's left with two choices. She can either give up on the enterprise and hope things settle down on their own, or head to the National City shelter and hope she doesn't run into anybody she knows. She sits at the kitchen table, staring at Google Maps and hoping that the distance to Central City will magically decrease somehow. (It doesn't).

A loud crash from the still-open hall closet, coupled with another one-of-a-kind meow, Alex's "Winn, you dork, what is wrong with you" squawk, makes the decision for her. She can't keep dealing with this craziness. She needs things to calm down. And if that means she reveals herself to the people she volunteers with, so be it. She grabs her keys, calls out the typical goodbye to her cats- "be back in a few, behave, don't kill each other"- and makes the now-familiar run to the pet store for Round 5 of cat stuff. Then she takes a deep breath, gathers her courage, and drives to the shelter.

She almost, almost, doesn't go in. "It's fine," she reassures herself. "They're all animal lovers here. It's not like I'm telling Ms. Grant."

Cheered by the thought, she heads inside. Of course it would have to be Amy, the person who knows her best, at the front desk. Kara stands in line, fidgeting, until Amy finishes a conversation about Golden Retrievers with an older couple. Then she steps forward, takes a deep breath, and blurts it out. "Amy, I need a cat."

Amy raises an eyebrow. "I thought you already had some. And I also thought you were a dog person."

"I am. And I do. Have some. Cats, I mean. Four of them. I need another one."

The eyebrow leaps higher. "Maybe you'd better tell me the whole story."

So Kara does, starting from the day she ran into Alex. At first Amy continues to look baffled, but then her expression starts to clear, and by the end of the story she's almost laughing. "Wow, Kara. I never would have guessed. I mean, I knew you had cats, but I didn't know you were like, living out the trope. That's hilarious."

Kara glares, and Amy quickly adds, "And yeah, I think I have just the cat you're looking for. Follow me."

Kara, relieved by the relatively painless process of telling Amy about the cats, is only too happy to do just that. Amy leads her down the cat hallway, past all the cute fluffy kittens and bouncy teenage cats to the section that houses the mature ones. She stops in front of a cage. "Here you are!"

Kara bends down to peer inside. The cat is sitting on the bottom of the cage, alert and watchful as if he's scanning for trouble, with a slightly grumpy expression on his face. His fur is a darker, smoother brown than Winn's floofy stripes, but not as sleek and dark as James' rich chocolate coat. And his yellow-green eyes regard Kara seriously, as if he's silently sizing her up. He doesn't seem too impressed, but Kara's heart is practically melting. She glances at the info sheet to find that apparently the cat's name is J'onn. Kind of a strange name; maybe it's French or something. It doesn't matter. She has no doubt that this solemn, serious cat is the Cat Dad she came here to find.

Kara turns back to Amy, eyes shining like a kid in a candy store. "Yes," is all she says, and Amy grins and goes off to hunt down the paperwork.

* * *

The first J'onn does when Kara gets him home is take a nap. A long one, on Kara's pillow with the door closed, completely ignoring the fact that there's four anxious cats going crazy with curiosity just outside. When he wakes up he stretches out leisurely, jabs a paw under the door to open it (which Kara has never seen a cat do) and makes his slow, dignified way out to meet everyone. And from that moment on, the miracles just keep happening.

To start with, there's Alex. She takes her usual authoritative position, looking J'onn straight in the eyes. He meets her gaze without flinching, and the staredown lasts exactly five seconds before Alex glances away. J'onn, looking almost pleased for the first time since Kara's met him, immediately rubs up against her as if to say that he likes her. And Alex, although she tries to hide it, looks happy too. She's been the leader for so long that she seems relieved to have someone to look up to herself.

And then there's Winn. Dorky excitable little Winn who's so thrilled about meeting a new cat that he's meowing his squeaky little chirp every few seconds and practically vibrating with energy. Alex's crooked tail switches exasperatedly against her side, which means she's fed up and is about to smack him again, and Kara's about to intervene when J'onn steps in.

He steps in front of Winn, sits down, curls his tail around his paws and simply gives the much smaller cat a long, level look. Winn's green eyes widen in the same expression of did-I-just-mess-something-up that he often uses with Alex. He stops bouncing around and slowly, slowly, sits down and remembers to breathe, tipping his head to one side with a questioning "meow?" J'onn bumps up against him too, as he did with Alex, and almost knocks him off balance in the process because J'onn is slightly bigger than James and Winn is most certainly not.

And Kara stands there open-mouthed, watching the whole performance, because she's never seen a cat do anything like what J'onn just did.

J'onn's role as Cat Dad becomes more apparent in the following weeks. When Winn gets a little too excited, J'onn's The Look will get him to settle down in a split second. When Maggie finds her way up to the high locations she's not supposed to be in, J'onn's warning growl of "get down here, young lady" sends her scurrying back to lower ground in a heartbeat. When Alex gets annoyed with one of the other cats and the murderous look comes into her eyes, J'onn's presence ensures that she stays relatively calm. James, well, James does his own thing, but James was always a mostly calm cat who didn't take much part in chaos-creating, so J'onn lets it go. But as far as the others go, things are calmer and more orderly than they've been in a very long time.

Slowly, Kara notices, the other cats are affecting J'onn as well. He seems happier now, less grumpy, and actually comes to regard his four "foster children" fondly as time goes on. He warms up to Kara too, letting her cuddle him in her lap every once in a while and brushing briefly against her ankles in the morning. Everyone is happy. Everyone is calm. Life is amazing.

(And Kara still holds to that one bit of hope that Ms. Grant never has to know about any of it).


	6. Mike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, y’all. Just a quick thing before this chapter. I am fully aware that Mon-El, or Mike as he’s referred to here, and Lena, who’s in the next chapter, are divisive characters. And divisive characters inevitably lead to bashing. This fandom is riddled with stories where authors turn characters they don’t like into horrible monsters. I’m not here for that. Fandom should be a place where you like what you like and let other people like what they like. I have characters and ships on Supergirl that I don’t particularly care for, but I choose to leave those out instead of bashing them, because I prefer for anyone, regardless of their tastes, to be able to enjoy my stories.
> 
> With that in mind, I respectfully ask that you keep any negative opinions about both of these characters out of the comments. I don’t bash in my works, and I don’t tolerate bashing in the comments. I would love to hear your thoughts, as any author would, on the story- comments make my day- but please don’t say anything hateful about either character. This is a cat story. Romance isn’t involved, and it’s meant to be cute and funny. I ask that you set the shipping war aside and just enjoy this fluffy little fic for what it’s meant to be- fun, no matter who you like and don’t like.

It’s not like Kara doesn’t want to let Ms. Grant in on the secret. It’s just that she knows what Ms. Grant would say and she has no desire to experience it. She’s received enough snide comments about dressing like a cat lady that she can’t imagine what would be said if she revealed she actually is one. Nope. Better to just go on as if everythings’s normal and what Ms. Grant doesn’t know won’t kill her.

As the weeks go on, Kara becomes quite good at living the double life. She steadfastly avoids conversation about pets, tries to lie low when Ms. Grant brings Lucy in (Kara has a distinct feeling that Lucy knows everything and is just waiting to see her slip up), and invents a number of creative explanations when she forgets to clean the cat hair off her jacket before she heads to work.

But in the end, the choice is taken out of Kara’s hands. She didn’t expect it. She didn’t even say a word. And the secret still comes out.

The day starts normally enough. Kara wakes up on time, gets ready for the day and then walks into the kitchen to refill the food bowls. Chaos ensues until J’onn stalks grumpily in to restore order by shoving everyone else aside, eating his fill and then watching the others like hawks, growling warningly when the fight over what’s left gets too crazy. Then Kara yells at Maggie to return her keys, says goodbye to everyone once the keys have been returned, and, because it’s a nice day for autumn and she has some extra energy, walks to Catco. She realizes halfway there that she forgot to de-cat-ify her jacket again, but shrugs it off. She’s forgotten enough times that people hardly notice anymore, and if they do she’ll just use one of her customary excuses.

She waves to friends and coworkers as she gets into the elevator, balancing Ms. Grant’s latte in her hand. Strangely, everyone seems to be laughing, but no one lets her in on the joke. She hands off the coffee to Ms. Grant, receives her orders for the day, and sits down at her desk to cover phones while she works out Ms. Grant’s schedule for next week.

The laughter goes on. More than one strange look is directed Kara’s way, along with “cute” or once “so sweet, Kara,” and once even “what the heck?” But no one explains what they’re talking about, and by the middle of the afternoon Kara’s wondering what in the world is going on. She puts her head down and buries her focus in her work, trying to ignore the ruckus.

It’s not until a fancy pair of black heels clicks their way over to her desk, and a shadow falls over her papers, that Kara glances up quickly. Cat Grant is standing over her, hands on her hips and a disapproving look on her face. Kara opens her mouth to ask what the matter is, but Ms. Grant cuts her off.

“Keira,” she says, her voice clipped and sharp, “my office.”

She turns on her heel and strides away, and Kara gets up quickly to follow, trying to ignore the faint giggling that trails after her.

Cat sits down at her desk, folds her hands one over the other, and fixes Kara with her most intimidating stare. “Keira, do you think this is funny?”

Kara blinks. “Uh...what?”

“I know you’ve seen me bring Lucy in, Keira, but I am the CEO of this company and I may do what others may not. Did you just decide I had initiated a pet-friendly policy in my building, because I assure you I have not. Lucy is hypoallergenic, I’ll have you know, but thanks to whatever that is I’ve been sniffling all day. I don’t _like_ to sniffle, Keira. What I would like is an explanation.”

“Ms. Grant, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ms. Grant draws a long sigh. “Cats, Keira. I am talking about your cats, specifically-“

Normally it would be suicide to interrupt Cat Grant mid-sentence, but Kara’s panic at being found out overrules her usual caution. The cat hair on her jacket. It must have tipped Cat off. “Ms. Grant,” she says desperately, “I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t want to tell you about my cats because you always tell me I dress like a cat lady and I didn’t want you to know I am one. But I am, I have five, and I love them, and I didn’t know you were allergic and I’ll definitely start cleaning my jackets off before I come in and I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you before please don’t fire me.”

She pauses, out of breath from her sudden rant. Cat continues right where she left off, as if Kara hadn’t spoken. “Specifically,” she says, emphasizing each word, “the cat that has been following you around like a puppy on a leash since you walked in here.”

Kara almost short circuits, because none of her cats have ever followed her to work before. Winn hates leaving the apartment, James only leaves to visit Lucy, Alex knows better and J’onn would never have let Maggie slip out...

She looks down. Sitting by her foot, gazing up at her with a look as close to a grin as a cat can get, is a giant Maine Coon with fluffy golden-brown fur. “Mrow,” he says, evidently very pleased to be there.

Kara doesn’t own a Maine Coon. Kara has never seen this cat in her life. “Ms. Grant,” she says. “This is not my cat.”

* * *

Three things happen very quickly. The first is that Cat delivers an ultimatum. “Keira, I don’t even want to know why this cat is following you if it’s not yours. You are going to do something with it- I don’t care what, add it to your growing family, give it to a shelter, it doesn’t matter as long as it’s gone because no one out there has had their minds on their work since the moment that creature stepped foot in here.”

The second is that instead of firing her, Cat raises Kara’s salary. “I am not doing this to be nice, Keira, so get that stunned look off your face. You obviously have a number of pets to provide for and you’re the one person in this building who has never asked for a raise, so I’m giving you one. I should have guessed you were the kind of person to live alone with a bunch of cats. The cliche suits you almost as well as it suits the 1970s wallpaper that inspired the pattern on your shirt.”

And the third is that Kara, still reeling from the whirlwind few minutes in Cat’s office, stumbles out of Catco with the Maine Coon in her arms, completely in shock.

Cat knows her secret, and hadn’t been nearly as mean as she could have been about it. Cat had even raised her pay. And she was holding Feline #6.

It’s that last realization that makes her pause, holding the Maine Coon at arm’s length. She’s never seen a cat look so clueless and yet so happy about it. Clearly the cat has no idea how social interactions work, seeing how he strolled right into a building full of humans like no other stray cat would ever do. He’s definitely a stray- the mud he’s splashed with testifies to that- but he probably hasn’t been one long.

“You,” Kara tells him, “almost got me fired. And I have no clue what I’m going to do with you.”

“Meow,” the cat says, tipping his head to one side and staring at her with confused blue eyes. Translation: _what do you mean you don’t know what you’re going to do with me? You’re going to take me home and love me._

And Kara sighs, because yes, she is going to do exactly that. She chose her other cats, but this one chose her.

* * *

By the time she gets home, praying all the way there that she doesn't get stopped by a police officer for walking down the street with an unrestrained cat, the new addition has kind of won Kara over. In her head, she's been calling him Mike. She doesn't know why, he just looks like a Mike. And she learns quite a few things about him just on that first day.

For one, he's almost as awkward as Winn is, but in a different way. Winn's awkward is "I know what to do in this situation but I will somehow bungle it anyway." Mike's awkward is "I have no idea what to do in this situation so I'll just do the first thing that comes to mind while grinning all over my face." Which is as endearing as it is frustrating, because Kara has never met a cat who has less of an idea how life generally works. But he's clearly unembarrassed by that fact, and she can't help but be a little impressed with his confidence.

For another thing, Mike is clearly used to being the center of attention, because he's very surprised when Kara calls the other cats to her and sets him down in front of them. He's not afraid of them in the least; in fact, he seems to puff up a little, as if he expects the others to immediately surround him with admiration.

They don't. J'onn takes one look and heads for the bedroom to take a nap, clearly not at all interested in dealing with this. James gives Mike a cool once-over, then looks up at Kara with a completely unimpressed expression and resumes his former position on the back of the couch. Only Winn's reaction is anything close to what Mike was hoping for- he crouches a little as the much bigger Maine Coon approaches him, unsure whether to stand still or run for it, but his green eyes are still friendly, and he's got that awestruck look he always gets around bigger cats. Mike seems to appreciate that. Carefully, as if he's afraid of injuring the tiny brown tabby, Mike lowers his head and sniffs at Winn's face. Then, before Kara can do anything to stop it, he decides he likes Winn and bumps his head enthusiastically against Winn's cheek. Winn, not prepared, loses his balance and tumbles over with a startled squeak, while Mike, who clearly does not know his own strength, looks completely shocked.

A single beat of silence passes before an enraged screech rips through the apartment, and Mike finds himself suddenly knocked over by a hissing, furious Alex, with Maggie not far behind. Because yes, Alex and Maggie do that to Winn all the time, but they are the only ones allowed to do so. If anyone else messes with their little brother, they are willing to commit murder and worse.

By some miracle, Kara manages to separate the three of them before blood is drawn. "Alex, Maggie," she pleads, "he didn't mean it. He was just trying to be nice. And see? Winn's fine." (Which he is; he gets back on his feet and shakes himself off, a little dazed but possibly even more awestruck than before. Kara has learned that Winn, being a very small cat, thinks bigger cats are cool and turns into the feline version of a fanboy when one pays attention to him).

Alex looks unconvinced, and Maggie looks skeptical, but they both back off from the baffled Mike. It's not the greatest introduction in the world, but no one died, and later Kara's even able to laugh about the expression on Mike's face in the split second before Alex tackled him. She's actually quite charmed with the new cat. Mike may be a bit rough around the edges, but there isn't a mean bone in his body; like some people Kara could name, he just doesn't quite get it yet. And when he isn't accidentally doing the wrong thing, he's both affectionate and protective of Kara.

In the following weeks, Mike becomes mostly Kara's cat. He keeps a respectful distance from Alex and Maggie and is tolerated by James. J'onn just seems to be confused by him, as if he can't understand how it's possible for Mike to be so clueless about things. Winn, however, loves hanging out with him. And when Mike makes the discovery that he's big enough to pick Winn up like a baby kitten, it becomes his favorite thing to do. More than once Kara's felt something brush against her leg and looked down to see Mike standing there with Winn dangling from his mouth, while Winn meows pathetically to hide the fact that he actually enjoys it.

But at the end of the day, Mike always prefers Kara. And since most of her cats have a feline friend they prefer to be with- Winn with James, Alex with Maggie, and J'onn with whichever one of his foster children is behaving most responsibly on a given day- Kara likes having a cat who chooses her.

She likes having all her cats in general, she decides. Now that the formidable hurdle of Ms. Grant has been crossed, there's nothing she has to hide, nothing stopping her from just enjoying things with her cats. She's no longer living a double life, and the life she is living? She loves it.

(But all the same, she's not going to collect cats like the cat ladies in the movies. She's content with the cats she has. Life is good, and there's nothing she'd want to take out of it- but nothing to add, either).


	7. Lena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry it’s been so long, y’all. Life kind of got away from me, and then I was too busy freaking out about Crisis (!!!) to do much writing.
> 
> But at long last, I’m back with the final chapter! More bits of angst in this one, because Lillian is not a Nice Person. Please continue to refrain from character-bashing (thanks so much for being so kind about that so far) and let me know what you thought of this story!

Not much changes now that Kara’s out in the open about her cat-lady-ness. Sure, there’s the occasional sarcastic comment from Ms. Grant, but Kara’s worked with her long enough to take those with a grain of salt. And now that she’s not hiding anything, she’s free to indulge in her love of cats any time the subject comes up. She especially loves the look on people’s faces when she casually says, “Oh yeah, I have six.” 

But six, for Kara, is the perfect number. Every so often she’ll see a cute kitten in the pet store window, or a pretty senior cat in the shelter, but she always keeps walking in the end. She’s content with the cats she has. She doesn’t need any more.

Destiny, however, doesn’t pay attention to little things like feelings. Which is why it’s Kara who gets assigned to set up Ms. Grant’s interview with the famous Lillian Luthor, president of the fearsome LuthorCorp.

She’s uncomfortable from the minute she walks in. The building’s polished and sparkling and luxurious down to the last detail, but there’s a coldness to it, a sharp, frigid emptiness. There’s no warmth, no love, no laughter here, and Kara, in her glasses and ponytail, feels ridiculously out of place.

That feeling, however, only lasts till Kara follows a crisply dressed intern into Lillian’s office. Her attention is immediately grasped by a beautiful, long-haired black cat with arresting green eyes, lounging on a velvet cushion on one of the expensive sofas.

“Oh, she’s beautiful!” Kara gasps, before even introducing herself to Lillian. She remembers her manners a moment later and blushes, straightening her glasses and holding out her hand. “Sorry, Kara Danvers from Catco,” she says. “I didn’t mean to be rude, I just- I love cats. I have six. What’s her name?”

“Lena,” Lillian says. “I believe she’s a Turkish Angora. But you’ve come to set up an interview with me, not admire the cat, so perhaps we ought to get started?”

Kara, properly chastened, hurries to sit down. From that moment on she’s all business, talking over dates and times as professionally as can be, but her thoughts keep going back to the beautiful black cat. 

Lillian didn’t seem to care about her much. She hadn’t even been sure what breed Lena was, and she had called her “the cat,” not “my cat.” Not once during the discussion had Lillian even glanced at her pet, even though Kara had seen Lena glance at her almost wistfully once or twice. It’s kind of sad, how lonely the cat seems. Sure, maybe she’s sitting in the lap of luxury, but she seems to be more of an ornament than a member of the family like Kara’s cats are.

Kara finds a date for the interview as quickly as possible, even though Lillian has an infuriating habit of being “not quite certain” if she’s available or not. With a reassurance that Cat will be looking forward to speaking to her, Kara makes her exit. She’s hoping for a last glimpse of Lena, but the black cat’s vacated the room sometime during the meeting and is nowhere to be seen.

She remains nowhere to be seen until Kara’s left LuthorCorp and gone back to her car. And there’s Lena, sitting primly next to one of the tires as if she’s waiting for Kara. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Kara says in some surprise, leaning down to run a hand through the gleaming black fur. Lena arches her back with a “mrrt,” and Kara feels that dangerous tug on her heartstrings.

“You should probably head back inside now, baby,” Kara tells the cat. “You could get hurt out here, and Lillian’s gonna be looking for you.”

She could swear Lena rolls her eyes at the last phrase. But she doesn’t have time to escort the cat back inside, so she opens the car door.

Before she can even get in the driver’s seat, Lena hops into the vehicle and curls up regally on the passenger seat, staring at Kara with placid pale-green eyes. 

“Oh, no,” Kara says, getting quickly into the car. “Lena, um...I can’t take you home. You’re not my cat. I don’t need another one.”

Lena blinks. Her expression stays calm, but there’s a pleading look deep behind her eyes that almost breaks Kara’s heart. And Lillian was such a cold, detached owner...

“I’m going to regret this,” Kara says, pulling the car door shut. “But really, Lillian never said for sure that you were a Turkish Angora, so if she puts out an ad for a missing one I can’t be sure it’s you. And I have really bad vision, obviously-“ she gestures to her glasses- “so I can’t be sure any pictures are of you. So as far as I know, I just picked up a stray cat in need of a home. I mean, I’m sorry for the poor lost Luthor cat, of course, but you? You’re just a random stray.”

Lena blinks again, this time with a sly look in her eyes like she’s caught on to Kara’s plan. And that settles it, because this cat is wickedly smart.

* * *

Lena’s first meeting with the other cats goes much better than Kara expected it would. Probably because Lena is not interested in meeting the other cats at all. She just walks around, sniffing everything once...twice...three times, as if she’s suspicious of some ulterior motive for Kara being nice. It’s sad, honestly, and Kara picks her up and cuddles her. She doesn’t go claw-crazy, but the look on her face when Kara puts her down translates to _the heck_? Clearly she’s not used to getting attention and wants to be left alone.

Which is unfortunate, because that’s the last thing the other cats have in mind. Maggie’s staring wide-eyed; Mike has his clueless grin on his face; J’onn, sensing a new arrival, is inching suspiciously forward to investigate; Alex is glaring as usual; and the entirety of Winn’s small body is wiggling with excitement. Even James looks interested, though he has yet to actually get up and come over with the others.

“Give her some space, guys,” Kara advises. “She’ll warm up to you. Let’s just give her some time.” 

The cats, as usual, don’t listen to her. J’onn reaches Lena first, and Lena looks freaked out but clearly senses J’onn’s Cat Dad status and lets him look her over. She seems even more surprised by J’onn’s signature “you have been accepted” head bump, and relieved when he walks away. Alex is next, with Maggie close behind, but the two of them don’t seem all that impressed, just curious. James still hasn’t joined the others, preferring to watch the goings-on from his comfortable spot on the back of the couch, and Kara lunges, just in time, to scoop up the most overwhelming pair of cats. 

Neither Mike nor Winn seems to appreciate it. Mike glares at her, and Winn almost breaks her heart with a very disappointed meow and futile attempts to wiggle out of her arms. “Calm down, you guys,” Kara tells them. “She’s already got a lot to process, and you two can come on a little strong.”

Their response to that is a look that is clearly meant to mean _who, us_?

“Yes, you,” Kara says. “Mike, you’ve already got that look that means you’re gonna transform into Macho Cat and show off for her and she is not equipped for that. And Winn, you’re already turning into your feline fanboy self and that’s just going to confuse her. Let her get settled, and then you can go say hi, I promise.”

She makes good on that promise sooner than she thought, because Lena settles in fast. She’s wary of J’onn, probably because she’s never had anyone looking out for her the way he does before. She gets along with Alex and Maggie, though the relationship is somewhat tense, and when she finally gets around to meeting the last two, it becomes clear that she is less than thrilled with Mike and prefers to ignore him entirely. Winn seems to amuse her, which is actually kind of adorable; she’ll watch his goofy antics in fascination. Oddly, though, she seems to prefer James over anyone else, because both are loners. They understand each other, know when the other needs to be alone, and make sure the other cats know it too.

But when it comes down to it, if Mike is Kara’s cat, Lena is, at least for the most part, her own cat. She’s been alone for so long that she ultimately prefers it, and interactions with the others come few and far between. At first it concerns Kara, but eventually she reassures herself. Lena may still keep to herself, but she has the option of friendship, and on the rare occasion when she does seek out one of the others, they’re always accepting of her. It may not be what Kara would prefer for her, but Lena, in her own way, is happy. Which is a lot more, if Kara had to guess, than she’s ever had before.

* * *

“I’m home!” Kara calls, stepping into the apartment and shutting the door behind her. She almost trips over Winn, who immediately runs over to curl himself around her ankles, and reaches down laughing to scratch behind his ears. Mike isn’t far behind, demanding to be picked up, and Kara obliges, setting down her purse and continuing into the living room.

Alex and Maggie come trotting in from the direction of the bedroom, where they were probably cuddled up on the cat tree again. James is draped across the back of an arm chair, while J’onn stands sentinel by the window, watching for the trouble that almost never actually shows up. As for Lena, she’s decided that tonight is one of her alone nights and is therefore curled up in the top of the bookshelf, with only her fluffy black tail still visible.

Kara sets Mike down and almost trips over Winn again at the same time. She grabs a stuffed fish from the coffee table and hurls it into the hallway, giggling as both of them go chasing after it, even though Mike always wins in the inevitable tug-of-war that follows this game. She slips into the bedroom and changes into her pajamas, then heats up a mini pizza in the kitchen, returns to the couch, and flips through the channels on TV. J’onn steps delicately into her lap and curls up there, purring in his low, grumbly voice, while James transitions to the back of the couch behind her. Lena turns around in the bookshelf so that she can silently observe what’s happening, and Kara pats the arm of the couch next to her to let Lena know she’s welcome if she wants to join in. A muffled thud and a squeak from Winn echo from the hallway, which probably means that Mike let go of the toy unexpectedly and Winn fell over backwards, which happens often. Alex, sprawled on the rug beside Maggie, immediately gives her “watch it” growl, and Mike meows apologetically.

And Kara? Kara turns on _The Wizard of Oz_ and settles back against the couch with her hand buried in J’onn’s soft fur, perfectly happy.

Sure, maybe it’s not a glamorous life, or an exciting one, but this is the life she wants- a quiet little apartment, filled with her beloved cats. She glances over each one of them as the first song starts to play. Regal, reserved Lena. Charming, clueless Mike. Grumpy J’onn with a heart of gold beneath. Sassy, spitfire Maggie. Calm, courageous James. Sweet, dorky Winn. And tough, streetwise Alex, who started it all. She can’t imagine life without any of them. 

She also can’t imagine life with any more of them. Although, now that she thinks about it, she wonders if Alex might like a kitten to take care of-

She’ll think about that later. Right now, she just wants to enjoy what she has in this moment. She, Kara Danvers, is a cat lady.

And she absolutely loves it.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s all, folks! For now, at least. There’s a thousand other things that could happen in this fluffy little AU, from Cat meeting the cats to the introduction of more characters to just about anything else. But I’ll close the book for the time being and leave the rest to the imagination of my readers. Check out my Tumblr, reluctant-reality, if you enjoyed the story and want to see more of what I’m doing, and feel free to say hi! I’d love to hear from you! :D


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